


The Leading Lady

by AshKnight



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Swan Queen - Freeform, swanqueen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-17 00:55:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5847598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshKnight/pseuds/AshKnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regina Mills is the leading lady on broadway, and Emma Swan is the stage manager for her current show (Jekyll and Hyde).  Emma has a crush, but the star seems out of her league.  She can dream, though, right?  Two-shot.  SwanQueen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning! Straight sex in the beginning! No straight romance though. But I promise it'll be Swan Queen! I had a lot of fun writing this, so I hope you enjoy!

"Nothin' hotter than a leading lady, eh, Em?" a young, dark-haired man joked with his co-worker, nudging her roughly in the shoulder.

He wasn't quite drunk, but he was definitely getting there, and it made Emma nervous, especially given that she was also starting to feel a little more than a buzz. She tried to keep her work and private life separate, but when the handsome young man had asked her to go out for drinks, her stress level was too high to resist. She needed to wind down.

"Um… Sure, John," she replied flatly. "Whatever you say."

"No, c'mon," he slurred. "Don't tell me you don't think about it."

"What?"

"Look, we all know you're a dyke. Nobody cares. It seriously doesn't matter. But don't lie and pretend like you don't jizz yourself when she gets up there in those fuckin' pantyhose, wearing barely anything, and does 'Good 'N' Evil' Or 'Bring On the Men.'"

The numbers were particularly erotic. Emma couldn't deny that. And their leading lady certainly  _did_ own the role with complete and total confidence. Her performance was flawless, even in the initial run-throughs with the rest of the cast (who were hardly at her level of acting, or singing). Broadway eats people alive, and only the best of the best make the cut, but Regina Mills was, without a doubt, the most talented woman Emma had ever worked with as a production stage manager.

"Emma?" the man pressed, shoving her shoulder to regain her attention.

"Huh?"

"I was talking about pantyhose."

"Oh. Yeah. Whatever, man."

"You're so full of shit," he laughed in response. "We all drool when we look at her. The woman's a goddess."

"She's alright," the blonde muttered, averting her eyes and taking a large gulp of her glass of scotch.

"Alright?! Are you kidding me?! Regina Mills is-"

"Flawless. I know," she sighed. "None of us stand a chance, though. There's no doubt in my mind that her and our leading boy Robin are fucking."

"Oh, come on. You don't really believe that."

"It's kind of what co-stars  _do,_ John. They get together. It helps their chemistry on stage."

"He's a fucking oaf, dude. There's no way she's fucking him. He's hideous and just  _barely_ good enough to be the lead. I have no idea how he got the role, honestly."

The young woman couldn't help but laugh at this, relieved that he shared her sentiments about the male star of the show.

"You could probably do a better job," Emma agreed. "And you can't sing for shit. I've heard you."

"Hey! I don't sing!"

"Backstage, when you're setting up? Sure you do."

"Shut up, man."

"It's alright. I sing in the shower."

" _Everyone_  sings in the shower," the man laughed, shaking his head. "You're probably a hell of a lot better than me."

"Nah."

"I bet you used to act  _and_ sing. I can just tell."

"I was in some stuff in college, yeah, but-"

"Ha! See?! I knew it."

Emma rolled her eyes and took another swig from her glass. The room was starting to move on its own, and he was becoming more annoying and more hilarious at the same time (which made absolutely no sense to her, but seemed to be true nonetheless).

"It doesn't matter. I sucked. I did much better when they put me backstage. I just did it 'cause they made me in order to get my degree. Said I had to be 'well-rounded' or whatever."

"What were you in?"

"I was Maureen in RENT once. Did Eponine in Les Mis, too. Felt bad for the people in the audience."

"Any recordings of those shows?"

"None you're ever gonna see," the blonde laughed.

"Oh, come on. It'd be fun. I doubt you sucked as much as you say, but we'd have a good laugh about it if you did."

"I'm not showing you."

"Well," the young man said loudly, swaying a bit on the bar stool as he leaned in. "I think you should reconsider. We could have a good time, you know? You could take me back to your place and-"

At this, Emma burst out laughing, to the point where she doubled over and held her stomach. When she finally caught her breath, her co-worker was scowling at her and looking offended and dejected.

"Fat chance, lover boy."

"It doesn't have to be like that," he grumbled. "We could just hang out. Doesn't it get lonely, not having any friends?"

"How the hell do you know I don't have any friends?"

"Well, you just admitted it, right there, for starters. Second of all, you've never been out with anyone we work with."

"That's not true!" she shouted back. "I had a working dinner with Don once!"

Don, the director, was particularly fond of Emma. What she wasn't going to tell John was that the older man had made a particularly explicit pass at her, and when she'd declined,  _he_ declined to have dinner with her again after that.

"Guess that's why you don't go out with us then."

Surprised at his level of understanding without her having to explain, she nodded her head slightly to let him know he was on the right track.

"Come on, Em," he finally sighed. "Let's just chill and have a few drinks. Let me see the shows."

"It's not gonna happen. Besides, we're already having more than a few drinks. I'm not drunk enough to bring you back to my apartment."

"Then have another drink. It's on me, alright?"

"Stop it, John. I-"

But he interrupted her to wave down the bartender, who took his order for two more glasses of scotch. When the bartender returned with the drinks, Emma looked at John apprehensively, but with her inhibitions already low, she found her defenses waning, and soon, she was sipping on the next glass of alcohol. After another hour of drinking, they were both definitely drunk.

"Take me home," he slurred in her ear, leaving his lips lingering there without pulling away.

"F-Fine," Emma laughed, her resistance demolished by her drunkenness. "Let's go."

So the young man settled their tab, paying for all of Emma's drinks, and allowed her to lead him out of the bar. When they reached her apartment in Greenwich village, Emma slammed the door behind them and sucked in a quick breath as he backed her up against the closest wall, nearly knocking down the framed poster beside them.

"Let me kiss you," he pleaded, his face close to hers.

"N-No," she laughed, shaking her head. "You're gross."

"Come on, Em. We both need to get laid. You're pretty. I'm attractive. Charming. Intelligent. Talented…"

"Oh, shut up, you fucking asshole."

"Seriously," he sighed, sliding his hands over her sides. "What's so wrong with needing a little physical attention? I mean, I know I'm not a chick, but-"

"I'm not gay, John," she said, voice stern.

"Whatever. Bi, then. So what?" he countered. "Wait… You're into guys too?"

"Depends on the guy, but yeah."

"Then why not? Why not me? Just this once. We don't ever have to talk about it ever again."

"I'm  _so_ not drunk enough for this," Emma groaned, pushing him away and rolling her eyes as her head fell back against the wall with a thud.

"You are too. Look, I'm not looking for anything more than a little action with someone I'm fond of, okay? We're friends, right? That doesn't have to change. Like I said, we both  _really_ need to get laid, and-"

"Fuck, Jonathan!" Emma shouted, grabbing his shoulders and jerking him forward, crashing their mouths together in a rough but passionless kiss. "Just  _fuck off_."

"Let me fuck you."

Again, her head fell back against the wall, exposing the pale skin of her neck. He took his chance to kiss her there and after a few movements of his tongue, she let out a low moan.

"I'm not interested," she finally managed, between heavy breaths.

"Maybe not in me. But you definitely want to get fucked."

"Not by you."

"Just pretend I'm her, yeah?"

" _What?_ "

"Who cares? It doesn't matter to me. We both want to get off. I don't care if you're thinking about her."

"I'm not going to think about her when you're fucking me!"

"Oh, so I am gonna get to fuck you, then?"

"Ugh! Shut up! Maybe I'm  _too_ drunk for this."

"Shit," he cursed, but sounding concerned. "You gonna get sick?"

"Nah," Emma sighed. "I'm just actually considering your proposition, so I  _know_ I'm too far gone."

He stared at her until her gaze met his, then slid his hands up her toned stomach and over her breasts, which were displayed perfectly by the low-cut tank top she was wearing. Again, she sighed, but reached out and groped his jeans in the space between his legs, earning a deep groan from him. She could feel his erection through his pants and was surprised to find that he was larger than she'd expected. Emma rubbed him a little harder a few times, until he was gasping and his head fell to her shoulder.

"Are you gonna think about her too?" she asked him suddenly, pulling her hand away.

He lifted his head reluctantly, slightly aggravated that the stimulation had been removed.

"Honestly?" he asked, irritation grating his voice.

"Yeah."

"I'm happy thinking about you."

"What?"

"I've wanted you for a while now. Since we met, actually."

"But I thought you said-"

"Of course I want to fuck her too. Who doesn't? But you're fucking hot, Emma, and I'm seriously  _desperate_ to get laid right now."

"How desperate?"

"What?"

"How desperate are you to get laid?"

" _Very_."

"Desperate enough to go down on me first?"

The dark-haired man raised his eyebrows and looked at her with deep green eyes.

"Wouldn't you rather I do it after?" he finally asked. "I mean… you know… to finish you off?"

"Most men are too tired and bored afterwards. I'm not dumb enough to expect to come after they do."

"I won't be. I promise."

Looking suspicious but drunk enough to believe him, she pulled him into her bedroom and started to strip.

"This is weird," Emma said suddenly as he gently pushed her onto the bed and positioned himself between her legs. "I-"

"It's alright. Really. I get it. She's flawless, like you said. It's cool. Whatever gets us both off, right? Nothing serious. Just casual, much-needed sex."

When he asked if she was ready, she nodded slowly, and he pushed into her, his head once again falling to her shoulder as he groaned in pleasure. He came quickly – not at all to Emma's surprise – but made good on his promise to please her. A few short moments after his release, he put his mouth between her legs. Though he was pretty much an amateur at the action, the thoughts that Emma allowed to flood her mind were enough to get her off, though it did take a while. When she finally came, with her eyes squeezed shut, she had to bite her tongue to keep the woman's name from slipping past her lips.

He raised his head with a smirk and looked at her face, which was full of a mixture of relief and exhaustion.

"Was that alright?" he asked her, his hands remaining on her hips. When Emma nodded, he added, "Was she good?"

"Oh, shut up," Emma laughed, pushing him off.

He rolled onto his side next to her and smiled brightly.

"So how bad of a crush do you have on this girl anyway?"

Still feeling buzzed, but not quite drunk, Emma flopped back against the pillows, folded her arms behind her head, and sighed, "It's so bad that it's  _painful._ "

"I fucking knew it!" the man cackled.

"What? How?!"

"Well, first of all, like I said, there's nothing hotter than a leading lady. Secondly, it's in the way you stare at her."

"I'm the fucking production stage manager! Of course I'm looking at her!"

"You're  _supposed_ to be looking at  _everyone_ on the stage, not just the star."

"Oh, shut up, John!" the woman cried, shoving him and knocking him onto his back.

"Your bed is comfortable," he commented after a few moments of silence.

"Yeah, it is," Emma said. "But you're definitely not sleeping in it."

"Why not?"

"I don't let people sleep in my bed."

"Why?"

"Because it's too intimate, okay? It's too much like a relationship. I'm not into commitment."

"Okay. I get that. But-"

"Drop it, John."

"Fine, but-"

"Seriously."

"Are you sure I can't stay? I mean, it's not like we don't know each other. I'm not gonna murder you in the middle of the night."

"That's got nothing to do with it. This is too serious for me already. You need to back off."

"Oh, come on, Em," the man sighed. "I'm not looking for a relationship either. I just don't feel like walking back to my apartment in the middle of the night and – don't fucking laugh – I sort of like to cuddle after sex. It's not a connection thing. It's a physical thing. That's all I want, alright? A friend, a fuck, and a cuddle. Is that so much to ask for?"

"Quit pressuring me to do something I'm not comfortable with…" Emma said slowly, looking away from him.

"Don't you ever just wanted the warmth of someone else in your bed every now and then? Haven't you ever felt that?"

"Well… I mean… Maybe…"

This brought a smile to his face as he rolled back onto his side, facing her, and draped his arm over her bare torso, just under her breasts.

"Then let's just lie together for a while, yeah? Besides, morning sex is pretty good too."

"How do you know I want to fuck you again?" Emma asked, trying to sound serious.

"Was I that bad?" he laughed, rubbing his thumb over her skin.

"You were alright. I was just kidding."

"Just alright?"

"Well, you're huge, but you're no Don Juan."

He laughed at this too, only slightly offended. After all, how upset could he be after a fuck like that? He might have been mediocre, but she certainly wasn't, and he was grateful to have had such an intense release after such a long time without any action.

"Fair enough," he replied, flashing her a smile. "So, can I stay?"

With a heavy sigh, Emma replied, "Yeah. Alright."

John clapped his hands like a schoolboy, thrilled that he'd won what he wanted, and rolled closer until half of his body was leaning against hers and his head was on her shoulder. Again, though, Emma sighed.

"What?" he asked, hearing the sound.

"This is just weird. I really-"

"Relax. I'm not gonna push you into a relationship. This is just a casual physical thing between two people who happen to work together. I just want to be friends. I'm not into commitment either. I've just been horny as fuck, and you are a  _fine_ piece of ass."

"Hey!" the blonde snapped. "I'm not a piece of ass, alright? I'm a fucking human being. I'm not your toy to discard when you're done."

"I thought you didn't want a relationship!"

"I don't! I just don't like being referred to as a piece of ass!"

"Hey, listen… I'm sorry. I just meant… You're really attractive and desirable, and I'm lucky to be in your bed right now."

This brought a small smile to Emma's face as she said, "Apology accepted. Now shut up so I can sleep. We've both gotta be there early tomorrow."

"Ugh," he groaned. "I know it. Don's a fucking asshole and works us all too hard."

"He just wants everyone to be prepared by opening night. He might be a dick, but he knows how to pull a show together."

"Yeah, right. He just sits there and complains and criticizes without actually telling anyone how to fix anything. You're the one who glues it all together and makes sure it doesn't fall apart."

Sober by this time, Emma blinked a few times, surprised by his comment, then replied, "Thank you for saying that. I'm not so sure it's true, but I really appreciate that you see it that way. I do try hard to be good at my job."

"You are good at your job, Emma. I'm lucky to have you as a manager."

"Aw, come on. You're a stage manager too."

"Yeah, but you're still production stage manager and higher up than me. I've learned a lot from you."

"You are kind of a rookie, aren't you?" the woman laughed lightly, poking him in the side.

"Guess so," he muttered.

"Everyone was a rookie once, man. You won't be one forever. Maybe you'll be production stage manager for your next show."

"Honestly, I'd rather work with you again. You make it easier to be around asshole directors like Don."

Smirking at this, Emma shut her eyes and let out a quiet sigh.

"Night, Em," he mumbled, shutting his eyes again.

He passed out after a few deep breaths, but Emma, as tired as she was, found herself unable to fall asleep, kept awake by the image of the beautiful leading lady behind her eyelids. Eventually, though, she did join him in sleep. She was startled awake the next morning by the feeling of the man stroking her hip with his thumb.

"Shit, John!" she gasped, shoving his hand away. "You scared the shit out of me!"

"What, by touching you?"

"Yes!"

He laughed, shaking his head, and said, "C'mon. Don't you want another go? We've got a little while before we have to get up…"

Emma looked over at the clock. 4:03 AM. Rehearsal didn't start until 6. She only turned her head back to look at him when he rolled on top of her, hands pressed into her hips.

"John," she sighed, wanting to push him away, but slightly aroused by the stimulation.

"Just pretend it's her strap-on," he suggested with a chuckle. "I really don't care. I just need to get rid of this fucking raging boner."

"You always get a woody in the morning, perv?"

"Not as hard as this one. But I don't usually wake up next to a beautiful woman laying beside me."

"I need to shower. We should get going."

"Come on, Emma. Don't make me fucking jack off."

"I don't give a shit about your boner, John."

"You don't care about an orgasm either? A little release before a stressful day at work?"

She bit her lip, considering his point. It was a good one. It wasn't like he was so attractive, or that he turned her on so badly, but the proposition of a relatively decent fuck before a taxing day of getting shouted at by a douchebag of a director was tempting, even if he wasn't the most desirable option. Also, his suggestion was also tempting. Imagining the star of their show fucking her with a strap-on as soon as she woke up made an orgasm particularly enticing, and the more she considered it, the more the pressure and heat in her core built up, until she pulled his hips forward.

Once he came, he put his mouth on her clit again and sucked her there until she got her own release. To Emma, the orgasm was nothing special. It didn't wrack her body the way she imagined that Regina would, and it certainly didn't leave her thighs shaking or feeling like Jello. She wasn't sore from being fucked hard and rough. Really, it had been second-rate, and, given that her anticipation was more intense that morning than it had been the night before, and that she was completely sober, it was more disappointing than anything else. Of course, the young man didn't notice, or bother to ask how it was.

Instead, he rolled onto his side, smiling at her, and said a simple, "Thanks."

Emma rolled her eyes and swung her legs out from under the sheets and got out of the bed, announcing, "I'm getting in the shower. I'll see you at the theatre."

To Emma's surprise, the man's attitude at work was completely casual. It wasn't awkward at all. He was relaxed and said nothing about the previous night, or that morning, and simply treated her as he always had – like a good acquaintance. They were almost even friends. Friend _ly,_ at the very least. Emma had to admit, too, that having drinks with him the night before had been enjoyable. It was good to have the company and not feel so alone. She found herself grateful that he'd invited her out.

What did distract her, however, were her fantasies of the star of the show. Of course, it wasn't like she hadn't pleasured herself to the thought of the young woman's touch, but the longing had grown more intense as the man fucked her. They became more real. More penetrating (literally). She also found herself grateful that John had understood the desires of her imagination and allowed her to indulge in them.

However, these experiences didn't help to take her mind off the beauty who took center stage, and unfortunately, she missed multiple cues throughout the rehearsal, which were thankfully caught by the other stage manager that she usually set and example for.

"What's the matter with you?" the director asked her, after they'd wrapped for the night, around 9 PM, and almost everyone else had left the building.

"Nothing, Don. I'm fine. Just an off day."

"Yeah, well it better not happen again, or I'll have John take your position and demote you to his. Got it?"

"Yeah, sure," she muttered. "I got it."

As she walked away, Emma cursed under her breath.

Thinking she was alone, she dragged her feet as entered the backstage area to gather her things and said out loud, "I am such an idiot."

"What?" a smooth, low voice asked from behind her.

"Huh?" she said dumbly, spinning around to look behind her. "Oh. Regina. Hi... I was just-"

"Were you talking to yourself?" the brunette laughed, her gaze locked on Emma's blushing face.

"N-No! I mean… Sort of."

"What makes you think you're an idiot?"

"Oh, my God," Emma groaned. "Did you not see how many cues I missed today? It was pathetic. I…"

"Everyone has off days, Emma. It's not a big deal."

"You don't," Emma pointed out. "And Don certainly thinks it's a big deal."

"Well, he's a fucking asshole. Don't worry about him. Just come back rested tomorrow and do your thing."

"Yeah. I'll definitely try. I just hope this off kick doesn't bleed into tomorrow."

"You'll get back on your feet," Regina assured her. "I know you will."

"I think you have too much faith in my abilities," Emma chuckled. "Thanks, though."

"Emma, you're a great stage manager. You're great at what you do. Everyone knows that. Even Don."

"He said he'd demote me and give the spot to John if it happened again."

"He won't. John's mediocre. I mean, he's alright, but he's nothing special. You have your shit down pat. No one doubts that. It's an empty threat. He'd fuck the whole show over if he did that."

 _Mediocre_ , Emma laughed in her head.  _Boy. She has no idea._

When the star saw the smirk on Emma's face, she look confused and asked, "What?"

"Huh? Oh, nothing. I was just… thinking."

"Alright…"

"You know…" the blonde started slowly. "You're really good at what you do too. I've never seen anyone with as much talent as you."

"It doesn't come naturally. I work my fucking ass off. I practice constantly, even when I'm not at rehearsal. I've always been like that."

"It really pays off."

"Thank you," Regina said with a smile. "You're very sweet to say so."

 _Oh, God,_  Emma groaned silently.  _She called me sweet._

But Emma didn't feel sweet. She felt like a creep as she realized that her crush was quickly becoming an obsession. All it took was a small smile spread across the woman's lips to make her heart palpitate. She hoped it wasn't obvious that she was starting to sweat.

"Well, I gotta go," the stage manager said awkwardly, shifting her weight to her other leg. "See you tomorrow."

"Alright. Thanks again! See ya tomorrow."

As Regina turned around and began to gather her things, Emma quickly grabbed her own and hurried out of the building. As soon as she was outside and the heavy New York air filled her lungs, her heartbeat began to slow, and she was thankful that the woman was finally out of sight. On the subway back to her apartment in the Village, though, she found the thoughts returning, more and more intensely as she grew closer to her train stop. As she stepped back into her apartment, she thought about calling John, just to get some release, even if it was less than satisfying. At least it would be  _something._ But she decided against it, instead choosing to fill a glass with scotch as she sat down on her couch and flicked on the TV.

None of the shows interested her, though, and even after she picked one, she quickly fell into a daze and ended up staring at the moving pictures on the screen with her eyes glazed over. After a while, realizing she was barely even knew what show she'd put on, she grabbed the remote and turned off the device, then went into her bedroom to change into her pajamas. Once she was in the bed under the sheets, though, her thoughts went right back to the actress. More intensely than she'd ever felt before, she felt the desire for release, when the image of Regina's bright, sly smile refused to leave her mind.

Her fingers twitched, but her arms remained at her sides, and she shut her eyes as she tried to lie still.

"Nope," she said softly, speaking to herself and the darkness that surrounded her. "Not gonna do it."

But the harder she tried to push the thoughts away, the harder it was to fall asleep. In fact, the more time passed, the more explicit the thoughts became, shifting slowly from the woman's beautiful smile, to the thought of her naked body, and then to the mental image of the intense, mind-blowing sex Emma longed to have with her. Once her imagination brought this idea to the front of her mind, she was quickly overwhelmed by the force of it and gave in to the urge for release.

"Fuck," she groaned as her own fingers brought her near to orgasm. " _Regina._ "

She came as soon as she said the woman's name, and was left panting as her sweat soaked the sheets. It was only then that she was able to fall asleep, this time with surprising thoughts of Regina spending the night in her bed with their bodies entangled tightly, their sweat and juices mixing as heat radiated between them.

The next morning, she woke long before her alarm went off and was kept awake by thoughts of the leading lady flooding back to her mind. After another release – the urge was too strong to ignore – she turned off the alarm before it announced its presence, showered, and arrived at the theatre early. She was alone for a while and was successfully distracted by burying herself in the notes she'd made on her copy of the script. The idea was to review them to keep herself focused and more prepared during the rehearsal, but as soon as Regina appeared backstage – the second person to arrive at the theatre – all memory of her script slipped away.

"Uh… H-Hi, Regina," she stuttered.

"Oh! Emma! Hi!" the young woman exclaimed, clearly surprised to have found someone there before her. "What brings you here so early?"

"Um… I… uh… woke up early and couldn't get back to sleep," Emma responded.

It wasn't a lie, and she certainly wasn't going to tell the star  _why_ she hadn't been able to return to her dreams, or what the dreams had been about.

Looking a little concerned, Regina said, "Sorry to hear that. I'll keep my fingers crossed that you get better rest tonight."

 _Doubt that's gonna happen,_  Emma was thinking, but she didn't say the words out loud.

Instead, she replied, "Thanks," and asked, "What about you?"

"I always get here early. I like to go through the harder parts of the script before anyone else gets here to see me mess it up."

"Regina," the blonde laughed. "You never mess it up."

"Sure I do."

"When?"

"Well… That… That time we did the first read-through I…"

"Oh, whatever. That was one time, and it was the first time you'd ever seen the script."

"I guess so…"

"Hey, come on. Don't beat yourself up over something so tiny. You are a  _wonderful_ actress, and a wonderful singer. You should be very proud of yourself for your accomplishments. You've been the lead in… how many shows?"

"Well… I don't know…"

"Sure you do. How many?"

"That's not the point."

"How many?"

"Okay… Um… The Little Mermaid… Wicked… Beauty and the Beast… Spring Awakening in college. Maureen in RENT my senior year… I was also Audrey in Little Shop of Horrors and Eponine in Les Mis when I was in high school…"

"That's seven shows. That's  _incredible._ I mean, when weren't you a lead?"

"Well… I…"

"I bet you did shows in middle school too. Which ones?"

"Um… I was Wendy in Peter Pan…"

"See? When have you  _not_ been the lead?"

"I…"

"Well?"

"N-Never…"

"Listen, Regina. You hit that stage, and you are  _magic._ "

"All magic comes with a price," the brunette laughed, shaking her head.

"What's the price, then? Being the most flawless woman on Broadway?"

"Oh, shut up. It's not having a social life. This is literally  _all_ I do. I have no time for  _anything_ else. Musicals are my entire life."

"I find that hard to believe. Every guy I know knows that you're the perfect woman."

"Knows…?"

"What?"

"You said 'knows.'"

"I… Well… Yeah."

"Meaning it's universally true."

"It kind of is."

"Meaning you think so too?"

"I…"

"Emma?"

Luckily for Emma's pride, they were interrupted by the director walking in with loud, stomping steps.

"Hello, ladies. Ready for another brutal day of rehearsal?" he said cheerfully with a smirk.

"Sure, Don," Emma answered, rolling her eyes. "You got it."

"Of course," Regina chimed in, flashing a genuine smile.

No one liked the director, but Regina was chipper no matter what. Emma assumed this was because she enjoyed her occupation, regardless of whom she worked with. It partly aggravated her that Regina seemed to tolerate him and wasn't bothered by his status as the ultimate douchebag, but her relentless smile also encouraged her to put up with the man's merciless bullshit. The only person it didn't encourage her to tolerate was the leading man – Robin – who irritated her to no end,  _especially_ when she was smiling at  _him._ She did feel a little better after what John had said the night they'd gone out for drinks, about him barely being capable of acting the leading male role, given that it was almost painful thinking about him fucking his co-star, or even being with her at all.

To Emma's frustration and dismay, that day's rehearsal went much the same as the day before. She was more than distracted by the leading lady's beauty and her divine singing voice. The woman never missed a note, and with every one she sang, the blond became even more captivated. Her fellow stage manager had to kick her in the side of her leg to keep her on cue, and even then, she missed quite a few. At the end of the night, as the cast and crew left the theatre, leaving only Emma, John, Regina, Robin, and Don, Emma was approached by the director, who scowled at her sternly.

"What the fuck was that, Swan?" he cursed.

Being referred to by her last name made it clear she was in trouble.

"W-What?" she asked, clearly playing dumb.

"You know exactly what! You missed half the cues and fucked up the entire cast today!"

"Look, I'm sorry. I'm just-"

"Fucking up. You're just fucking up. Do I need to demote you and bump John up to your position?"

"No! I'll be fine tomorrow. I just… I need… I just need some more sleep."

"Listen, Swan. You better get your shit together by tomorrow, or you're losing your spot as production stage manager. Is that clear?"

"Yeah… Crystal clear. I'm sorry."

"Good. Now, piss off, before I decide to just fire you altogether."

When she turned around, the remaining members of the cast and crew were staring at her.

As soon as she heard the director slam the exit door, she snapped, "What? Fuck off."

Quickly, they turned away and hurried to gather their things.

John was the first to finish collecting his stuff, but before he left, he approached the blonde and told her quietly, "Don's a prick. You got this, Emma. You just need some sleep, like you said. Rest up and you'll be good as new by tomorrow."

"Yeah…" Emma replied slowly. "Thanks, John. See you tomorrow."

With a nod, he left the theatre.

Unlike John, however, the next person to approach her was less than understanding.

"Nice work, asswipe," the leading man taunted. "Way to drop the ball and mess up everybody else."

Emma opened her mouth to respond, but before she could make a retort, he walked off laughing and left the building.

This left the blonde alone with the leading lady once again, and when she saw the star look her way and start to walk towards her, her heart responded in the usual manner by racing faster than she could manage. As the woman got closer, it sputtered and sped up, until it nearly burst as they stood face to face.

"Emma," Regina sighed. "I'm really sorry. He's such an asshole."

"Why are  _you_ sorry?" Emma asked, eyes wide with surprise.

"Because he shouldn't give you shit like that. A few off days are no reason to speak to you the way he just did."

"Nah," the blonde muttered. "He's right. I need to get my shit together."

"Emma! Your shit  _is_ together. You just had a few bad days. There's nothing wrong with that."

"I messed everybody else up!"

"They're supposed to have  _their_ shit together. If they did, they wouldn't rely on your cues so much."

"Wow… I mean… I guess you're right, but then again… If they did… I probably wouldn't have a job."

"That's not true. Every show needs a stage manager to hold everything together and take care of the cast in a crisis."

"We haven't had a crisis yet. I doubt we will. Not with you as a lead."

"Oh, stop it. I can't hold the whole goddam show together like you can."

"You are single-handedly carrying this show right now. You should know that by now. Only half the cast knows what they're doing, and it's mostly the ensemble," Emma told her, then muttered under her breath, "Robin's certainly got no fucking clue what he's doing."

"What did you just say?" Regina asked sternly, staring Emma down.

"N-Nothing. Forget it."

"No. Say it."

"Ugh. Fine! I said, 'Robin's certainly got no fucking clue what he's doing.'"

To Emma's surprise, the star burst into a fit of laughter, until she even doubled over and held her stomach.

"W-What?" Emma asked, gaping at the reaction.

"N-Nothing," Regina cackled. "Just wanted to make sure you said what I thought you said!"

"But… I thought you were going to-"

"What? Get pissed?"

"Well, I don't know… I just thought… I mean… I didn't actually intend to say that. It just sort of slipped out. I'm sorry…"

"Why are you sorry?"

"I… I…"

"What?"

"I just thought… that… you were… um…"

"What?"

"I thought you were… you know… with him."

"What?!" the brunette shouted, laughing even harder. "Me and  _Robin?_ Yeah right!"

"I… You're… You're… not… together?"

"Of course not! He's a complete  _imbecile!_ "

"Oh, wow. I could have sworn you guys were-"

"Nope. Never. I mean, he's made numerous passes at me, but it's never gonna happen. Nowhere outside of his wildest dreams."

The sound of her continued laughter – light and bright – gave Emma butterflies, and the information she'd just received only made them worse. Of course, she knew she didn't have a chance with Regina, but inexplicably, it made her feel better to know that the woman wasn't actually  _with_ her co-star. Jealousy had been building in her for a while, and it had only gotten more intense over the past few days. Finally, she was starting to feel better. At least… until she realized that the woman was probably with someone else.

"Are… Are you with someone else, then?" Emma blurted out on impulse, before she could stop herself.

Regina kept laughing and replied, "No way. No time, like I said. Absolutely NO social life."

"I'm… I'm kind of surprised, honestly."

"Why?"

"Like I told you, every guy knows how perfect you are."

"Even if that was true – which it's not – regardless of how  _they_ feel about me, I'm not interested in them."

"Maybe you just haven't found the right guy yet," Emma forced herself to say, shrugging as she looked away.

"Maybe I'm not looking for a guy."

"I'm sure you could make time if-"

"Let me try that again. Maybe I'm not looking for a  _guy._ "

Emma's eyes went impossibly wide as her head jerked up and she stared at Regina and her mouth fell open.

"W-What?"

"I'm gay," the woman laughed. "No one believes me when I tell them that. I guess I'm pretty fem. But it's true nonetheless."

"I…"

"Yes?"

"I definitely am… uh… surprised."

"The people I've told usually are."

"How many people know? I mean… I'm just asking because the entire cast and crew are clueless."

"Just a few close friends I used to have, and my parents. I try to keep my private life separate from work."

"Then why'd you tell me?" Emma asked, unable to contain her curiosity.

"I know you won't tell, and that you wouldn't care."

"What makes you so sure I'm not a total homophobe?"

"You're too sweet to be homophobic, Emma. You're probably the nicest person I know."

"What?"

"You do everything you can to take care of everyone and make everybody happy. You work hard to keep everything running smoothly, because you  _care_  about us."

"Except Robin," the blonde chuckled. "Don't give a shit about him."

"Sure you do. You've helped him tons of times. You're the only reason he'll make it through the show."

"Bullshit."

"What? You don't think he'll pull it off?"

"No, it's not that. I just don't think I'm the person that's gotten him there."

"You've run lines with him numerous times while I was practicing my numbers with Don. I've seen you."

"That's… I just… I don't care about  _him._ I care about the show."

"Maybe so, but you  _do_ care, and I think that's really amazing. Most people don't care that much. Take John, for example. He doesn't really care. I mean, he's a pretty good stage manager. He does his job. But he's nothing like you. He puts in the bare minimum then gets the fuck out of here as soon as he can. He doesn't stay late to make sure we're all practiced like you do."

"I…"

"You're special, Emma. You give this your all, and I admire that."

"You do too."

"Then I suppose we have that in common."

"I just have absolutely no acting or singing skills."

"I've seen your resume."

"What?"

"I've seen your resume. You were Eponine in college too."

"Well, yeah… but I sucked."

"They wouldn't have cast you if you sucked."

"There weren't enough people who auditioned, and I was the only one who knew the lines."

"That's some serious bullshit. You went to fucking NYU. I know you fought tooth and nail for that spot."

"I'm a stage manager, Regina, not an actress or a singer. It was a one-time thing. They made me audition for it."

"But you got it, Emma. You got it, and I bet you nailed it."

"What makes you so sure?"

"I heard you sing when you were cleaning up back stage…"

"You  _what?_ "

"I heard you sing one night while you were closing up."

"I didn't… I didn't think anyone was here…"

"I was on the way out, but I heard you, and I… I sort of couldn't… move…"

"What?"

"You have a beautiful voice."

"You are  _so_ full of shit. You're just being nice, because that's who you are."

"I'm not saying it to be nice. I'm saying it because it's true."

"It's  _not_ true! I can't hit a note to save my life."

" _You_ are so full of shit! Don't be so hard on yourself. If you'd auditioned, you could have gotten into the show."

"I did get into the show. As the production stage manager. And that's all I wanted. That's all I've ever wanted."

"I'm glad you get to live your dream. That's a beautiful thing. I was just saying… You're… You're very talented, in several ways."

"I…"

"Don't argue with me. Just accept the compliment, alright?"

Seeing the sudden stern look on Regina's face, Emma nodded her head reluctantly and went quiet, until finally, she said, "I should get going."

"Are you saying that to avoid this conversation, or do you actually have somewhere to be?"

"I need to get some sleep."

"Alright. You know… If you went out with everyone sometimes, you might be able to… relax a little more…"

"I went out with John the other night! Besides… You don't."

"I don't have time. I go home and run lines to make sure I don't fuck up when I get to rehearsal," the brunette retorted. "Wait… You're going out with John?"

"No! I… I mean… No."

"You sure about that?"

"I… I mean… We hooked up once, but it was just… just a casual thing…"

"Oh… Um…"

"It was stupid, and he was kind of lame anyway."

"I never would have guessed that you two had-"

"Like I said, it was dumb, and it didn't mean anything to either of us."

 _And I thought about you the whole time,_ Emma almost added.

"I'm surprised you're not going steady with someone."

"I'm not one to commit."

"That's fair. I'm sure you've got plenty of suitors to choose from."

"Not… Not really."

"Is that so?"

"I don't know. Maybe I just don't notice when guys are hitting on me. Well… Unless they're… you know… explicit about what they want…"

"I assume John was explicit, then."

 _Why does she even care?_ the blonde wanted to know, feeling confused and conflicted about sharing the information.

"Yeah. He was."

"But, uh… He was lame, huh?"

Suddenly, Regina was wearing a small smile, and it encouraged Emma to give her a matching one in return.

"Yeah."

"So what's your type, then?"

"Tall, dark, and handsome," the stage manager joked.

Regina rolled her eyes.

"Seriously."

"None of the guys I work with, that's for sure."

"Well, maybe if you went out, you'd find someone of a higher caliber. Lots of attractive bachelors in this city."

"Eh… I doubt it."

"You never know until you try."

"Well, then… Maybe… Um… Maybe we should both go out sometime… You know… to get rid of some stress?"

"You mean with everyone else?"

"Or… Or just us… Whatever you wanna do…"

Emma blushed when Regina raised an eyebrow at her and said, "That sounds good."

She gulped down the knot in her throat, but only managed to squeak out, "I…"

When the brunette took a large, slow step closer, their faces close together, Emma's heart stopped completely, and she felt as though she'd just died on the operating table.

"Get some sleep tonight," Regina said. "We'll go out later this week, if you want."

"That… That'd be okay…" Emma replied. "I mean… Great. That would be great."

"It's a plan then. I'll see you tomorrow, Em."

"Yeah… Goodnight, Regina…"


	2. Sympathy, Tenderness

Lying in her bed later that night, Emma tried to sleep, but again was unable to shut out the thoughts that flooded her mind. She wondered what Regina had meant when she'd said, 'That sounds good.' Alone, or with the rest of the group? She couldn't tell from the woman's response. Should she ask her to clarify? Should she just wait and let it happen?  _Yeah,_ she decided.  _Definitely not asking. That would sound ridiculous._

Still, she imagined the two of them – just the two of them – sitting at the bar, sipping their drinks. Emma would order a scotch, her favorite drink, and she imagined that Regina would get something girly, with fruit. Something like a strawberry daiquiri. Maybe a French martini or a Tequila sunrise. All Emma could think was, 'Tequila makes your clothes fall off.'  _Oh, God…_ Emma groaned in her head.  _Regina drunk on tequila…_

She imagined the woman laughing… leaning against her… their shoulders brushing… In her head, they'd share a giggling kiss, then Emma – sober enough to walk in a straight line and support Regina's weight – would lead her back to her apartment. Regina would… They'd…

Emma's mind froze on the image of them tearing each other's clothes off. No matter how hard she tried to fight it, the thought took over, and as soon as Emma slipped under the covers, she began to touch herself, her fingers working her into another panting orgasm as she watched the star's face twist in pleasure in her mind. Once she'd finished, Emma fell into a deep sleep and remained enveloped in her dreams until her alarm went off the next morning.

She grinned as she fixed her coffee, staring off into space as she absently stirred in the cream, until she realized that she'd over-poured, and that the hot liquid was pouring over the sides of the mug.

"Shit!" she cursed, immediately reaching for a handful of paper towels to clean up the mess.

The smile returned quickly, though, as she thought of the date they'd had in her imagination the night before and sipped the coffee that remained in the mug.

When she arrived at the theatre early, she found Regina running lines backstage. The woman didn't notice her, so she stood a ways back and just watched as the brunette poured all of her passion into the words. Only when the leading lady had finished the scene did Emma make a sound, clapping her hands quietly. She smiled as the woman whipped around to face her, clearly startled by the noise.

"Well done," Emma said. "Flawless, as always."

"I don't feel like I'm getting the emotion of it. I feel like I'm not grasping her character, you know? Lucy is so complex, and I just-"

"You are. I promise you are. You might not feel like it, but you're nailing it."

This brought a slight smile to Regina's lips as she folded her script shut and stood up. Just then, the director walked in, with John following closely behind.

"You better watch it today, Swan," the director warned. "You're on really thin ice."

"You got it, Sarg," Emma responded, rolling her eyes and taking her place in the left wing of the stage.

John took his place in the opposite wing and gave Regina a friendly wave as she took center stage while the rest of the cast filed into the theatre.

"Why can't you all be like Miss Mills here and arrive early for rehearsal? That's  _real_ dedication."

"I was here early too," Emma muttered, not loud enough for anyone else to hear her.

The cast simply grumbled and took their places.

"Alright," Don said loudly. "From the top!"

That time, though still captivated by the star's beauty, Emma didn't miss a cue throughout the entire run-through. The director said nothing as he left the building when the rehearsal had ended. Once again, Emma and Regina were the last ones in the theatre.

"See?" Regina said to her cheerfully. "I knew you could do it. You sleep well last night?"

"I… Um…" Emma stammered, blushing brightly as she thought about the previous evening. "Yeah… I, uh… I slept great."

"That's awesome! I'm happy to hear it, and I'm glad you're back on track. I knew you'd get through it."

"Thank you, Regina. That's very kind of you to say."

"Just being honest. I have faith in you. You're excellent at your job. Don't let anyone tell you differently, okay?"

"You either, alright? Not even the critics," the blonde said, flashing the young woman a bright smile.

"I'll try," the leading lady agreed, smiling back. "But you have to promise to stop talking shit about yourself."

"Yeah, yeah," Emma laughed. "Whatever."

"No, seriously."

The stage manager sighed, "Alright, fine. I promise."

"Good. And you have to come out with me tonight."

"What? Tonight? But I'm not dressed to go out..."

"You look great, Em. Just come out with me."

 _You look great._ The words echoed in Emma's mind.  _Em._ The nickname, when said by this beautiful young woman, made the blonde sweat.

"Alright… If you're sure I look alright."

"You look  _great._  I wouldn't lie to you."

"Are we meeting up with the gang, or…?"

"They're going to Rudy's, but I was thinking we could maybe hit up Catalina?"

"Oh, um…"  _Relax, Swan,_ she told herself, then finished, "Yeah, that's cool. Whatever you wanna do."

As they walked into the bar, Emma warned herself,  _Let's not have a repeat performance of that night with John. Sober as a judge. Let her do the drinking._

So she ordered a scotch and watched as Regina took her turn to make a drink request.

"I'll have the same," she said with a smile.

The bartender nodded and hurried off to pour their drinks, leaving Emma staring at the young woman on the stool beside her.

"What?" Regina laughed, seeing her unbreakable gaze.

"Scotch?" she replied.

"It's a personal favorite."

"I would've pinned you for a girly drink kind of gal."

"Well, you would've been wrong," the brunette retorted, still smiling. "Hard liquor is my thing, on the rare occasions that I do drink."

"I don't often indulge either. Not a big fan of how it makes me act. Inhibitions go out the window and I make… um… poor choices."

"Oh, yeah? Like what?"

"Like John," Emma admitted, staring down at her drink as the bartender placed it in front of her.

Regina, however, didn't take her eyes off the blonde.

"You were drunk?"

"Yeah. I was pretty sloshed. Not my best decision-making. I was stressed and sort of figured it'd get me to relax, but I overdid it."

"Some people don't do so well when they drink. Not everyone holds their liquor well."

"Oh, I can hold it. It just turns me into a complete idiot, apparently."

"It sort of just makes me giddy. Everything's hilarious when I'm drunk."

"I sort of figured you'd be that kind of drunk," Emma laughed. "I bet it's cute."

"Nah."

"Let's find out. Bottom's up, Princess."

With a shrug, Regina lifted the glass to her lips and downed the liquid in its entirety in one big gulp, leaving Emma staring once more.

"Wow," she breathed. "That was…"

"I might not drink often, but I can hold my own."

"Apparently, you can. You didn't even flinch."

"Your turn."

"I'm not here to get drunk. Besides, someone's gotta be sober enough to walk you home, yeah?"

"You don't have to walk me home. I'll catch a cab."

"No way, Regina. I'm not letting you try to get home drunk all on your own. I'm walking you."

"You want another, darlin'?" the bartender cut in, seeing that the brunette's glass was empty.

As his eyes lifted from the glass – he was clearly checking her out – Emma felt her hands tighten into fists as jealousy reared its ugly head inside her. This was only made worse when Regina flashed him a charismatic smile and nodded her head.

"Please."

While they waited for the bartender to return, Emma took a sip from her glass, then found herself looking deeply into the woman's eyes. Regina didn't break the gaze. Instead, she propped her arm up on the counter with her elbow and rested her chin on her hand, offering Emma a softer smile than the one she'd given the young man who'd brought their drinks. He returned quickly, breaking them both out of their trance.

"Alright," Emma said with a smirk. "Let's see it, hot shot. Show me what you got."

"Oh, you just wait. An hour from now, I'm going to be the funniest person in the room."

"I don't doubt it."

So Regina tipped the glass back, once again downing its contents in one go. She repeated this action a few minutes later when the bartender returned with her third drink as Emma continued to nurse her first glass.

It wasn't long before the brunette's face began to grow red with the heat of the alcohol.

"I have a theory," she slurred, licking her lips.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. I think I know why John was mediocre in bed."

"Is that so?" the blonde laughed.

"He's a guy," Regina cackled, clearly loving her own joke.

Emma laughed harder at this, until tears started to fill her eyes. She only stopped when she realized that now was her opportunity to share her sexual orientation with the woman and drop a small hint of her interest. However, she quickly chickened out and decided against making a comment.

"Guys are always mediocre in bed," the brunette continued, finishing off her fifth drink, after a few moments of silence.

"Yeah," the stage manager finally agreed. "I guess you're right about that. I've never really had a good sexual experience with them."

"Maybe," the star continued drunkenly, leaning in until their faces were close together, "what you need is a woman."

 _Oh, God,_ Emma silently groaned.  _What the fuck am I getting myself into?_

"I think we should get you home," she said suddenly. "You're pretty drunk."

"I'm not  _that_ drunk," Regina slurred. "I-"

"You really are," the blonde laughed. "C'mon. Let's go."

Emma settled the tab, paying for Regina's drinks after a dramatic fit of protest. As soon as the woman stood up, she nearly stumbled back onto the bar stool, but Emma caught her quickly and kept her arm around Regina as she helped her stumble outside. Of course, Regina was laughing the whole way. Even drunk, her smile lit up the room. When they got outside, Emma realized that it was also brighter than the brightest New York City lights that surrounded them.

Luckily, the leading lady's apartment was just a few blocks from the bar, and it only took them a few minutes to reach it. Regina struggled to get her key in the lock for quite some time, laughing the entire time, until Emma finally took it from her and unlocked it herself. The apartment was surprisingly upscale, and impeccably clean.

At first, the blonde helped her to the leather couch in the living room, but as soon as she was sitting, the intoxicated woman muttered, "Bedroom."

The sober woman swallowed hard and stared down at the beautiful brunette for a while, then finally helped her back up and walked her into the bedroom at the end of the hallway. Without hesitation, Regina started to strip, all the way down to her undergarments. Emma instantly looked away when she saw the bare skin of the woman's toned stomach appear from beneath her shirt and averted her eyes just before her bra was revealed.

"You can look," Regina laughed drunkenly. "It's not like you've never seen a woman's body before."

"N-No… Th-That's okay."

Regina shrugged, pulling on her pajama pants and shirt slowly as Emma remained turned away. Given how heavily intoxicated she was, it took her a while to struggle into the garments, and Emma's lungs constricted as the minutes ticked by.

"Done," the brunette finally announced. "You can look now."

"Alright… So… Do you need anything? Glass of water?"

"That would be great." So Emma left the room and returned with a cold glass of water, earning a, "Thank you, sweetheart."

"Not a problem. You okay?"

"I'm good," Regina giggled. "Next time we get  _you_  drunk."

"I think not."

"Oh, come on. We could-"

"I'm a horny drunk. You don't wanna see that mess."

"Maybe I do," Regina said slowly, putting her hand on top of Emma's.

"I should go," Emma said quickly, pulling away. "It's late. Get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow."

As soon as she left, though, after a reluctant nod of understanding from Regina, she regretted her decision.  _I should have stayed to make sure she was okay,_  she was thinking _._ But she knew that the young star was too drunk to make any good decisions, and it seemed like a better idea to let her get sober before allowing her say anything she'd regret the next morning.

 _She was flirting with me,_ Emma told herself.  _She was actually flirting with me!_ But eventually, the thoughts morphed into,  _She was just drunk._ When she reached her own apartment, her night ended much the same way the previous ones had – in an orgasm – but this time, she imagined, quite vividly, their lovemaking in Regina's bed instead of her own.

Again, she arrived early to rehearsal the next morning, anxious to make sure that the leading lady was alright. When she didn't show up in the next fifteen minutes, Emma decided to send a text message to her phone.

' **Hey. Just checking in. You alright?'**

' **On my way. Getting out of bed sucked ass. Total hangover, but that's our little secret, yeah?'**

' **Of course, sweetheart. Secret's safe with me.'**

 _Oh, shit,_ Emma silently cursed, once she'd sent the message.  _Fucking 'sweetheart?'_

As soon as the young beauty walked in, Emma felt her heart jump into her throat. Despite the reported hangover, Regina lookedamazing (as always). Even more so, really. Emma assumed she'd put in extra effort to compensate for feeling like shit.

"Hey, champ," Emma greeted her with a smile. "I've got some ibuprofen if you want it."

"Oh, my God," the woman groaned. "Thank you  _so_ much. I raided my medicine cabinet this morning and had  _nothing._ "

Emma laughed lightly and pulled the bottle of pills out of her purse, then handed it to Regina, who quickly popped two of them and handed it back.

"Thanks," she said again. "Hey, listen… I'm really sorry about last night… I was going for funny and kind of ended up a wreck…"

"You weren't a wreck, hun. You just had a little too much. Hence the hangover," the blonde told her. "You eat anything this morning?"

"Yeah. I made myself eggs and some super greasy bacon. I'm gonna regret it when it goes right to my thighs."

"Oh, my God," Emma laughed. "Don't be ridiculous. You are not going to gain weight from  _one_  breakfast of bacon and eggs. You'll be fine. I eat that shit all the time, so I'm a little pudgy, but ya know… Tastes good. Life's too short not to eat what I want."

"Are you fucking serious? Dude, you're ripped. There's not an ounce of fat on you! I've seen you lifting all the heavy equipment. You're as strong as any of the guys in the crew."

"There's pudge. It's just under my shirt so you can't see it."

"You don't wear shirts. You wear tight-fitting tank tops that hug your abs and-"

"What?"

"What?! Your fucking washboard is impossible to miss. If you wore a shirt that was actually your size, your biceps muscles would rip through the sleeves. Besides, your abs were staring at me first!"

Emma gaped at this comment, completely caught off guard by the woman's words. What was she supposed to say to that? It was a ridiculous statement that she saw absolutely no truth in. Even if it  _was_ true, she felt it was a huge exaggeration. (In reality, it wasn't.)  _Fuck, man,_ Emma thought in a panic.  _Maybe she_ is _flirting with me… No. No way. She's just being nice. She's always nice. To everyone._

Luckily, they were quickly interrupted by a few members of the cast filing into the theatre, and she didn't have to respond.

"Hey, guys!" Regina greeted them cheerfully, giving an enthusiastic wave. "Ready to knock this out of the park?"

"Too early for this," her female co-star (playing the role of Dr. Jekyll's other love interest, who was also named Emma) grumbled. "You're way too chipper in the morning, Regina."

"Just my personality, I guess," the brunette said with a shrug and a smile. "Happy to be here and ready to start the day."

Her smile was infectious, and Emma smiled too, even though she agreed with the other young woman that it was far too early to be that exuberant. She couldn't help herself. It was almost impossible  _not_ to smile around Regina. The woman simply lit up the room, no matter where she was or what time of day it happened to be. Even with a hangover and a pounding headache. Not to mention, she always  _looked_  impeccable. Taking notice of this once more, the blonde began to stare again.

"You alright, Em?" Regina finally asked, tilting her head as she looked at the woman with concern in her eyes.

"Huh? Yeah. I'm good," Emma said, a light blush rising to her cheeks as she quickly looked away.

 _Hopefully she didn't notice,_  Emma was thinking, but knew that she probably had. Feeling embarrassed and wanting to escape the moment, Emma hurried off to the left wing of the stage where she sat down on her usual stool and opened her script. Anything to keep her eyes off of the leading lady. She buried herself in her notes until the director called for everyone to take their places, then finally looked up and watched as the cast gathered in the wings and waited for their entrances.

When it was finally time for Regina to step on stage, Emma knew she didn't even need to nod in her direction to cue her. The star knew the entrances (and the lines) like she knew her own life's story. The young stage manager smiled as the brunette hurried on stage (her character was late for work) and watched from the sidelines as her face expressed the character's emotions.

That rehearsal went off without a hitch. Even the sparsely talented Robin was on point for almost the entire day and evening. He barely missed a note (which was wonderful, since the last thing Emma wanted to see was for his fuck-up to mess Regina up). When they finally called it a wrap for the night, almost everyone left immediately (per usual), and, as seemed to be a trend recently, the blonde was left alone with the star of the show as they gathered their things backstage.

"Hey," Regina said softly, after looking around to make sure they were alone. "I just want to say thank you again for last night. For taking care of me. No one's ever done that for me before."

"Oh… um…" Emma started. "It's no problem."

"I really am sorry," the brunette sighed. "I acted like such an idiot."

"Regina. Seriously, it's fine. It wasn't an issue. It was actually kind of nice. You were funny. It cheered me up and helped me relax. I do feel kind of bad for leaving you like that though…"

"What do you mean?"

"I feel like I should have stayed with you a little while longer to make sure you were alright."

"Emma," Regina laughed. "I was fine. You got me home safe, and that's what matters."

"Yeah, but… but what if you'd gotten sick? I mean… You had a lot to drink, and I…" Emma sighed, then continued, "I shouldn't have left you like that, and I'm sorry."

"I was fine," the woman repeated. "Really."

"You said you'd be fine getting home by yourself too, but I didn't believe that either. Did you get sick after I left?"

"Emma…"

"Did you?"

"It's not a big deal. I had too much to drink, but I was fine. A little puke never hurt anybody."

"Fuck! Regina, alcohol poison could kill you! I knew shouldn't have left you alone! God dammit…" Emma dropped her head into her hands and added, "I'm so sorry. I should have stayed with you."

"Emma, I don't need a babysitter. I'm a grown-ass woman, and I can take care of myself."

"Hey… I wasn't trying to say that you couldn't, but everyone needs somebody to look out for them sometimes. There's nothing wrong with that."

"I…"

"I'm happy to be the one to help."

"That's… That's really nice of you, Emma…"

"Nah," the woman said, brushing the comment off with a slight smile. "Just doing my civic duty."

"Your civic duty is to take a lady out, pay for her drinks, then walk her home to make sure she's safe? Sounds a little more like chivalry to me…"

Of course, the blonde had absolutely no idea what to say to this, so she stared dumbly at her shoes and simply mumbled, "I, uh… Yeah? I mean, I really didn't do such a great job… I should have stayed."

"It's no one's  _duty_ to take care of anyone. I think you know that, and I'm pretty sure you did it out of the goodness of your heart. It was very kind of you, and I appreciate it."

"Look, it's not a big deal. Let's just drop it, alright? Like, seriously… Don't mention it."

"Alright, tough guy," Regina laughed. "We don't have to talk about feelings."

 _Oh, God,_ Emma was thinking.  _If only you knew._

But the blonde certainly wasn't going to  _tell_  her any of her feelings. Nope. That wasn't happening. No chance. No way. No how.

Instead, Emma just forced a quite laugh and gathered the rest of her things, mumbling, "I'm gonna head out. I'll see you Monday. Have a good weekend."

"You too, Emma. Thanks again."

"Seriously… Don't mention it."

Before Regina could make a retort, Emma hurried off and left the building in a rush, eager to avoid any more awkward conversation with the woman she had such a deep crush on. The last thing she needed was to let it slip that she had the crush at all. As much as she was dying to talk to her, to hear her voice and see her smile, she was more concerned with making an ass of herself.

Monday came and went with no conversation other than a quiet 'Hello's and 'Goodnight's. Just by random happenstance, they didn't find themselves alone together after the rehearsal. A few other people lingered around chatting once they were through. Tuesday was much the same. Wednesday as well. In fact, the rest of the week passed that way.

The following week was Hell Week, the last few days before opening night that Thursday. The director was worked into an irritated frenzy and criticized every tiny mistake (of which Regina made none). Emma, however, thought the show was coming together nicely. All of them had their lines down completely and were finally acting like professionals. Their focus was sharp, and their production stage manager (as well as the stage manager working under her) appreciated their cool, collected demeanors. Surprisingly, none of them seemed anxious. Regina even seemed excited.

If she hadn't known by the date on the calendar (or noticed the complete and total panic exuding from the director), she would have been able to tell that it was opening night by the spark in their leading lady's eyes as soon as they gathered for one last run-through before the show. It also helped that Regina was finally in full costume (which drove Emma completely insane as she tried to keep her shit together, the point where her mouth was almost watering as she watched.

When the run-through was over, just before the curtain call, Emma asked her, "You nervous?" knowing full well that she wasn't.

"Not at all. You?"

"No, actually. You guys have your shit together. Especially you. I'm not worried, even if Don is."

"Well, we've all worked hard to get here."

"Some of you have."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just like you said, some people care more than others. It's really just been the last week of rehearsals that people have seriously pulled it together. I was a little concerned for a while there. Not about you, though. You've always given this your all."

"That's true," Regina replied with a smile. "It's what I love."

"And you're fucking  _great_ at it."

"Emma…"

"Just say thanks and shut up," the blonde laughed, playfully nudging the woman's shoulder.

"Th-Thank you…"

When the director approached them and shoved them towards the wing of the stage then hurried away, they both laughed quietly (not loudly enough for the audience to hear).

"You look great," Emma told her, giving Regina's shoulder a little squeeze. "Go kill it, kid."

With a nod and a bright, eager smile, the brunette hurried across the stage, behind the curtain, to the other wing where she awaited her first entrance. As soon as she started to sing, Emma could tell that she was more full of life in that moment than she had been the entire time she'd prepared for the performance, and the light that radiated from her from the very first note made Emma's heart stop. Although the star was always passionate when singing or acting, even during rehearsals, there was more passion in the notes of her first song than ever before.

Emma stared, captivated and open-mouthed, as the woman reached the climax of the song.

_The key thing about good 'n' evil_

_Each man has to choose_

_Heaven 'n' Hell_

_Is a hell of a gamble to lose_

_But as I peruse_

_This world we abuse_

_It's Hell that we choose_

_And Heaven must lose!_

By the time the star had reached the final note of the song, Emma had dropped her script on the floor. Luckily for her, the end tore her from her stupor, and she quickly bent down to pick it up. As Regina entered the wing of the stage – this time on the same side as Emma – the blonde was just standing up, and once she was upright, the brunette cocked her hip to the side and bumped the stage manager playfully. While walking away, the woman turned her head and winked at Emma, who was unabashedly staring, captured in a trance once again, completely unable to contain herself.

The production stage manager nearly missed the next cue, as did the other actress who was supposed to go on stage, but she managed to nudge the young woman just in time for her to make a smooth entrance. A sigh of relief escaped her as she watched the show go on. She tried to hold herself together, but every scene featuring Regina's character left her mouth watering and hanging open. It was impossible not to gawk at her as the woman took charge of the stage and enchanted the audience with her performance.

When the woman reached "Bring on the Men," a sensual, flirtatious number, Emma thought she might throw up from the intense arousal building between her thighs while she fought the thoughts of a private performance in her apartment.

_So many men, so little time_

_I want them all, is that a crime?_

_I don't know why they say that I'm too easy_

_They make me laugh, they make me cry_

_They make me sick, so god knows why_

_We say bring on the men_

_And let the fun begin_

_A little touch of sin_

_Why wait another minute?_

_Step this way its time for us to play_

_They say we may not pass this way again_

_So lets waste no more time_

_Bring on the men!_

_Oh, my God, Emma! Stop!_ her mind was screaming, but she found that the thoughts – and the star – owned her in her entirety.

An intense roller coaster of emotion quickly followed, and when Lucy (Regina's character) kissed Doctor Jekyll (Robin's character), rage and jealousy overflowed in Emma, to the point where she wanted to scream. This was quickly subdued by the woman's next number, "Sympathy, Tenderness," after which the blonde found herself crying at the mesmerizing beauty of it all.

_Sympathy, tenderness,_

_Warm as the Summer,_

_Offer me their embrace_

_Friendliness, gentleness,_

_Strangers to my life,_

_They are there in his face_

_Goodness and sweetness_

_And kindness_

_Abound in this place_

_I am in love_

_With the things_

_That I see in his face_

_It's a memory I know_

_Time will never erase_

Of course, Emma quickly wiped her eyes as Regina left the stage and passed her once more, playing it off as though she was simply rubbing her eyes to remove a piece of debris.

By the time the show was finally over – after a long bout of thunderous applause (especially when Regina took her bow) – and Emma had survived the torture of her heart exploding in her chest, she felt as if she might collapse. Sweat fell from her forehead down her cheeks, but she was at least grateful that the tears had stopped.

 _So pathetic,_ Emma whined to herself.  _ **So**_ _fucking pathetic._

"You okay?" Regina asked her, putting her hand on the woman's shoulder as she saw Emma's head drop into her hands.

"Yeah," the blonde muttered, not raising her eyes. "Good."

"No, come on. What's the matter? Did we fuck something up? Is Don pissed?"

"No!" Emma cried, lifting her head. "No, it's nothing like that. I… I have a headache…"

"Did you take anything for it?" Regina asked, buying the lie. "You should take something. You're probably just stressed. You work too hard, you know."

"Not as hard as you. And I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

"Are you sure? I-"

"You were… You were  _great_ tonight, Regina. You were amazing."

"Oh, gosh, Emma… I… I just tried to do my best. I mean-"

"You fucking  _nailed_ it, girl. Flawless. Couldn't have been better. If you had a cock, Don would be sucking it right now."

This earned a laugh from the brunette as she shook her head.

"Nah. It was mediocre at best."

"Oh, my God! Shut up!" Emma shouted, giving the woman a playful shove. "You were phenomenal."

"Robin wasn't so bad, either."

"No, you're right. He wasn't. He actually did pretty well. Didn't throw you off, which is really all that matters."

"That's not  _all_ that matters! He was the lead! We're supposed to put on a good show."

"It was amazing, Gina. Don't worry about that. They fucking loved you. Didn't you hear the roaring applause when you took your bow?"

"They clapped for everyone…"

"They clapped the loudest for you."

"I…"

"What?"

"You called me 'Gina.'"

"Oh… Um… I'm sorry. I… It just slipped out… I didn't mean to-"

"No, it's fine. It's just… No one's ever called me that before."

"Really? It's a cute nickname. It suits you."

"It is sweet, isn't it? I kinda like it, actually."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. But I'm not sure I'd like it coming from anyone but you."

"W-What?" Emma stammered, unable to process what Regina was trying to say.

"Emma… Would you… Um…"

The stage manager, who was still sweating, waited patiently for a response that didn't come.

After a while, her urge to speak grew overwhelming, and she gave into it, finally saying, "Uh… Regina…"

"Yeah?"

"Do you… Do you think that maybe… um… maybe I could… um…"

"That you could what?"

"Uh… maybe… uh…"

"Em?"

"Do you think I could take you out for a drink? You know… just to… unwind… and… celebrate?"

"Only if you promise not to let me have more than three," Regina laughed brightly, smiling as she looked directly into Emma's eyes.

The gaze pierced through her, and the blonde found her mouth watering again as her eyes made an involuntary dip to Regina's exposed cleavage.

"My eyes are up here, perv," the brunette joked, causing Emma to freeze in shock. When she saw just how horrified the woman was, she added, "It's fine. I'm just teasing."

But they both knew exactly what Emma had been looking at.

After Regina had changed out of her costume, she took Emma's arm (without being invited, since Emma was too nervous to offer it) and allowed her co-worker to lead her a few blocks away to the bar. Once they were sitting at the counter and had each ordered their first drink, they sat in silence.

When Regina's scotch was gone a few minutes later, she finally looked at Emma with the most serious face the woman's stage manager had ever seen her display and asked, "Were you checking me out earlier?"

Emma's heart stopped at this and got caught in her throat, but eventually, she retorted, "Were you checking out my muscles before?" expecting this to catch the brunette off guard and cause her to drop the subject.

Contrary to the woman's prediction, Regina simply looked her dead in the eyes and answered, "Yes."

"Fuck," Emma breathed, then turned her head and downed her second glass of scotch. "I… uh… wasn't expecting you to answer that…"

"Your turn," the star said seriously, not breaking her stare as Emma refused to face her.

"I…"

"Well?"

"I…"

"Emma Swan, were you checking me out or not?"

By this time, Regina was smirking as she reveled in the woman's discomfort.

Finally, Emma looked up, meeting the brunette's gaze, and answered, "Yeah, I was."

Regina just smiled and took a sip of her second drink, feeling triumphant and in control (which she clearly was). When the bartender asked if either of them wanted a third drink, they both laughed and shook their heads in unison to decline the offer.

"Not such a great idea for me, obviously," Regina chuckled.

Emma nudged her shoulder with a smirk, then said, "I dunno. It's pretty cute when you can't stop laughing." When the woman just smiled in response, Emma added bravely, "I love that sound."

"What sound?"

"You laughing."

"What? Why?"

"It's intoxicating."

It was the star's turn to be caught off guard – which she was – and she simply stared at the blonde without saying anything.

After a few awkward moments of silence, Emma asked, "What?"

"Your smile is intoxicating."

" _My_ smile?! What about yours?!"

"What about mine?"

"You have the most perfect smile I've ever seen in my life. The moment I saw your headshot in your application folder, I…"

Eyes wide, Regina pressed, "You what?"

"I knew it was going to be hard not to flirt with you. But I have no balls, so that… that made it easier."

Regina laughed and put her hand on Emma's shoulder, saying, "I'm glad you don't have balls. I much prefer breasts."

"As do I." Then, she swallowed hard and added, "Especially yours."

"You did seem to notice them, didn't you?"

"I always notice them, Regina. It's just a lot harder to ignore them when you're in costume."

"Oh, you like the costume, huh?"

"I…"

"Hey," the brunette said softly, leaning in and putting her lips close to Emma's ear. "It's alright. Normally, I don't like that kind of attention, but coming from you… I'm enjoying it. I also like to watch you squirm." As soon as she saw Emma's cheeks turn red, Regina giggled, kissed the one closest to her, and said in a low, seductive voice, "Come home with me."

Once again, Emma settled their tab, paying for the other woman's drinks as well as her own (after another wave of protests). The entire way back to Regina's place, Emma thought she was having a heart attack, until they reached the very last block before her apartment, when the woman slipped her hand into the blonde's. Then, she  _knew_ she was having one.

The eruption of excitement, fear, and anticipation continued to explode inside her chest as Regina shut the door behind them and gently pulled Emma into the living room, dropping her bag on the floor.

"'I'll be right back," Regina said suddenly, then disappeared down the hallway and into her bedroom.

At this point, the sweat on Emma's palms was joined by new sweat on her forehead. She wasn't sure whether she wanted to jump the woman immediately and fuck her senseless or if she wanted to bolt and run as fast as she could back to her own apartment. She decided on neither. Or, rather, she made no decision at all, given that she found herself completely frozen in place once she'd sat down on the couch. When Regina reappeared before her, in a tight black tank top with red silk pajama shorts, Emma's lungs failed to draw breath.

"I…" she tried, but nothing else came out.

"Just thought I'd change into something more comfortable. The costume's pretty constricting, you know? Fun to wear, but… it's pretty… uh… tight."

Nodding her understanding (which was really all she could manage in her current state), Emma watched as the woman sat down beside her.

"Take your jacket off," Regina offered. "Stay a while."

"I…" the blonde tried once more, but again, there were no other words.

"Are you nervous?" the leading lady asked, giving the other woman a small, encouraging smile.

All at the same time, Emma was comforted but greatly intimidated by the young star.

When the stage manager said nothing but seemed to be staring at her lips, the brunette said, "Emma?" which tore her from her trance.

Of course, she had been staring at the woman's lips, but as hard as it was to tear her eyes away, she managed to do so. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately) for her, Regina wasn't about to let it go.

"You're staring at my lips."

"I…"

"Are you going to say anything other than that?" the woman teased, nudging Emma's shoulder with her own.

"Um… I…"

"Wow! Two whole words."

"Hey, shut up! I'm…"

"Emma," Regina said with a sigh. "You don't have to be nervous. It's just you and me tonight."

But this wasn't as comforting as the woman had intended it to be. In fact, it sort of exacerbated Emma's anxiety by pointing out the obvious reality that they were, in fact, alone… in Regina's apartment… with the brunette wearing exceptionally revealing pajamas… and looking flawless.

"I… I can't help it," the blonde finally admitted. "My heart explodes around you. It feels like I'm dying."

"Oh, stop it," the woman giggled. "You're so dramatic."

"I'm not being dramatic. I'm being serious."

"Oh…"

"Yeah."

"I… I'm sorry. I thought you were just…"

"I assure you, I was quite serious."

"But… I mean…"

"You're enchanting, Regina. I don't know how else to say it. You steal everyone's heart, and I don't think anyone ever actually gets it back. The cast… The crew… The audience…" Emma trailed off at first, then finally added, "Me."

"You're the only one I care about."

"I… Really?"

"Really."

Emma's thoughts carried her away again, out of the moment and into Regina's bedroom, but she continued to stare into the woman's warm brown eyes, captivated by their beauty.

Finally, she said, "You're gorgeous, you know."

"Stop it, Emma. I'm-"

"I mean it."

"I…"

"Regina."

"Oh, just fucking shut up and kiss me!" Regina finally cried, grabbing the straps of Emma's white tank top and jerking her forward until their faces were just a few centimeters apart.

Emma opened her mouth to speak, but the brunette caught her lips and held them in a deep, slow kiss.

They pulled apart, slowly, reluctantly, before the star managed to say, "Would you stay the night?"

Part of her wanted to jump at the chance, but the other part of her was terrified and still wanted to run away. She was scared to disappoint her or fuck it up. She was also scared to open up even more than she already had. But Regina was scared to be vulnerable too, which helped her sense Emma's emotions, and when she put her hand on top of the blonde's, Emma decided to stay and offered the woman a nervous nod of agreement.

"You don't have to," Regina said quickly, biting her lip.

"I… I want to."

"Good. Then take me to bed."

Gaining a burst of confidence, even though the tenseness of her nerves and her intense desire were electrifying her entire body, Emma grabbed Regina and stood, lifting the woman into her arms, bridal-style, then carried her all the way to the bedroom.

"Shit, you're strong," the brunette breathed in her ear.

"Nah. It's just a magic trick," the woman teased.

"That doesn't explain all those muscles."

"Oh, shut up," Emma laughed, shaking her head and setting the woman down on the bed.

"Shut me up, then."

Before Emma could respond or make a move, Regina pulled her down until their bodies and their lips crashed together.

The way they made love was  _nothing_ like Emma had imagined, and the release that shook her body as she came was far more intense than she ever could have dreamed of. The look of ecstasy on Regina's face as her orgasm quickly followed suit told Emma that the woman felt similarly, which soothed some of her anxiety about her own performance.

"Was… Was that… okay?" Regina asked as she lay in Emma's arms, once her heart rate and her breathing had mostly slowed.

"That was perfect."

"Good… because it's more than I ever could have wanted."

They both shut their eyes.

"Will you sing to me?" Emma asked her softly, after they'd been lying in each other's arms quietly for some time.

She her fingers through the brunette's smooth locks of hair as she kept their bodies close together.

"What do you want to hear?"

"Whatever you want to sing me."

"Oh, Emma," Regina sighed. "I want to sing you everything. Don't you know how hard I try to impress you?"

"What?"

"Can't you tell?"

"I…"

"Yes, I care about the critics and what people think of me, but the only one I'm trying to  _impress_  is you."

"You  _do._ You do impress me," the blonde said quickly. "I just… Please, Gina… Please, sing to me. Anything you want. Just sing me to sleep."

As the notes poured from the young star's lips, Emma's heart continued to sputter and burst, as all of her became consumed by the sound.

" _Sympathy… Tenderness… warm as the summer, offer me their embrace…"_


End file.
